Racing Cars
by NancyDfan
Summary: No one can outrun the '67 Impala. Except for apparently a '69 Mustang.


**Author's Note: Hola! Another Drewnatural story for your viewing pleasure. :) I've been working on this for too long and decided to just finish and post today. I'm really a sucker for the Drewnatural universe even though I'm the only writing it apparently. Just think about it. Nancy would be such a kick ass friend of Sam and Dean's.**

 **Oh well. I can dream.**

 **Rating: PG - language as usual**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Nancy Drew.**

* * *

"Hey, hand me another burger, would ya?"

Sam eyes him. "It's mine."

"You just have to be selfish, Sammy."

Sam snorts. "It's my lunch! I never ate."

Dean glances over. "What? That's it?"

"Uh, yeah. You only gave me enough money for two. Remember?"

Dean scratches his head. "Huh. Well, damn. I'm starved."

"Good news," Sam props the map open. "We're only a couple of hours outside of Chicago. We'll arrive in time for dinner."

"Awesome," Dean mutters before pulling to a stop. He whistles absentmindedly to the song on the radio trying to ignore his growling stomach. Soft rumbling beside him catches his attention. Dean squints at the car in the next lane. It's a blue Mustang – vintage. Maybe 1969? He can't be certain from the angle he's at, but Dean decides about the blonde at the wheel.

She's hot - as in windblown hair, dark shades, and lipstick hot. Rock music blasts from her car, and he watches her bang on the wheel in tune.

"Dude, check out the chick beside us." Dean pulls at his brother's arm. "Seriously, dude. Come on!"

Sam leans forward. He nods. "Yeah, she looks like your type. Why don't you ask her out?"

"Why don't you ask her out?" Dean mutters before turning back. "Hilarious, Sam."

"You're welcome," Sam chuckles.

Dean shakes his head before grinning. He revs the engine.

The blonde whirls. She smirks at him and responds in kind.

"Are you trying to race her?"

"Shh," Dean waves him off and starts again.

The blonde shifts and offers a wink. Dean's not sure if she's willing, but his hand rests on the gears.

"You're nuts, Dean."

"I know."

And it's green.

Dean pulls away with a squeal, and he feels the power numbing his fingers. He steals a glance and spies the Mustang riding beside him. "She's into it, Sammy!"

"Let's just hope the 'it' isn't a wreck," Sam grunts.

"Ah, you love it." Sam laughs in response, and Dean knows it true.

"She's keeping up, Dean."

"Not for long," Dean shifts gears and speeds ahead. He grins a little to himself, but the sound of another imagine wipes it clean.

The Mustang roars past the Impala.

"Impossible," Dean won't swear on his life, but he's positive he saw the blonde wink as she drove by. "Oh hell no. Come on, baby. Let's show her who's boss."

He presses the peddle and pulls to her bumper. There's no way in hell he's gonna let her beat him. Not Dean Winchester.

Dean takes a curve and slides past her.

Sam cries out, "Whoo-hoo!"

"Listen to her purr, Sammy. Nothing more beautiful."

"While kicking ass," Sam suggests.

"Damn straight! And takin' names," Dean laughs. He guides the Impala through another curve at top speed.

"Holy hell!"

Dean sees what Sam exclaims about and steers the car to the left. The Mustang is now beside them and pressing forward. "Is she nuts or what?"

"You're the one racing her."

"If she wrecks my car-"

"Dean! Watch the wall!"

The elder Winchester is all too aware of his surroundings and steers the Impala at the edge of the road. They whiz by stone structures, and Dean has to pull the car tight to avoid clipping the wall.

"Dean, just let her go. This isn't worth it."

But Dean frowns with determination. He spots the blonde doing the same as they rush on. Dean spies the pass ahead and knows instantly they both won't fit.

"Come on. Slow down," Dean mutters.

But she gives no indication of slowing down. In fact, he watches as she slides to the right almost slamming into the wall. Dean catches his breath. The Mustang catapults back in front of the Impala and skids through the passage within only inches to spare.

Dean blasts through seconds later.

There's not dust. No Mustang. No evidence of anyone.

"What the hell?"

Dean feels his brain whirl as he slows the Impala. His eyes search the roads surrounding him and almost expects to see the Mustang. But she's not there, and there's only the roar of their engine.

"Sam, where'd she go?"

"I, uh, I don't know."

"Did I just race a ghost?"

Sam shakes his head. "I, well, maybe? It's possible."

"I just thought a ghost was hot, Sam. A ghost."

"Dean, we don't know if it was a ghost. She might have pulled off."

"Unfucking believable. Only me, Sam."

Dean considers stopping and turning back. The lure of a case pulls, but they have someone waiting in Chicago. Perhaps they can tackle it later. The blonde's grin reflects in his mind, and Dean's certain he might go crazy without knowing.

"Guess we'll never know," Sam begins.

"Yeah, guess not."

Dean drives on in silence thinking of the blonde and the mysterious Mustang. He wants to know the answer; his brain needs to have a solution, but he moves onward.

They're about twenty miles further, and Dean has to piss. He spots an old bar ahead and decides to pull off. "Just a quick stop, Sam."

Dean parks the Impala and heads towards the door where he freezes. "No fucking way."

A blue 1969 mustang shines in front of the building.

Dean's gawking, and he knows he'd be embarrassed if Sam wasn't doing the same beside him. He's positive the Mustang is the same that raced them a half hour before.

"Is that the-?"

"Yep."

He looks up at Sam. "Of course it is."

Dean takes off into the bar and glances around until he spots a lone blonde resting against the bar. "Mom jeans?"

Sam cackles beside him. "Still your type, Dean?"

"Shut up," and Dean walks up to her. She's finishing off a beer when he plants beside her. "Come here often?"

There's a low rumble of glee, and blue eyes pierce him second later. He's struck by the amusement bouncing in them. "Does that usually work on the ladies?"

"No," Dean admits. "Just with tall blondes."

She bursts out with a loud snort. "Is that why you've got that lanky one with you?"

"What? Sam? Hell no. He's my brother."

"Sam, huh?" She turns and waves at Sam. "Hey, Sam! Come over and have a beer with me on your brother."

"Hey, wait now," Dean protests. "I didn't say anything about free beer."

"You weren't going to offer to buy me a drink?"

"Maybe," Dean admits.

"Just consider it my victory prize."

"For what?"

"Kicking your butt."

Sam laughs and pulls up a stool. "I like her."

"No one asked you," Dean grunts, but he grins. "Sweet ride by the way."

"Thanks. It was my mom's," she looks off. "My dad didn't want me to drive it at first, but it felt right."

"Yeah, I get that," Dean nods. "My baby was my dad's. Got a lot of memories in that car."

She glances between them. "I bet."

"Are you from around here?" Sam questions. "You disappeared on us."

The blonde grins. "Born and raised. I know every back road in this place. You have to in my business."

Sam cocks an eyebrow, and Dean offers a small shake of the head. "What's that?"

"That's for me to know, and you to never find out," she smirks.

"Wow. Rude," Dean answers.

She tosses her hair. "I'm making it a habit, aren't I?"

"So, how did you know we'd be here?" Dean asks. "You looked amused when I pulled up."

"I didn't," she confesses. "But it's the only place on this road for another twenty miles. I figured I had a shot."

Sam looks surprised. "You wanted to find us?"

"Two hot guys driving a '67 Impala? Heck yeah!"

Dean smirks, "So what's the chance I can convince you to show us around this place?"

"Pretty good," she winks. "If you can wait till I get back from Chicago that is."

"What's in Chicago?" they both begin.

She looks amused. "Jinx! You owe me another beer. But seriously, just a job. I was on my way there now actually."

"Really?" Dean questions.

"Really."

Dean shakes his head. "That's funny."

Confusion crosses her face. "What is?"

"We've got a job there too," Sam admits.

She smiles. "Then maybe we'll meet there again. Maybe the same job."

"Doubtful," Dean counters.

She chuckles. "You don't know that. It could be the start of a beautiful friendship."

Sam snorts. "She is your type, Dean. Even quoting movies."

"Dean, huh?" she offers an outstretched hand. "It's been a pleasure. I must go, but I think I'll be seeing you both rather soon anyway."

She turns with a wave and heads to the door. Dean lets out a whistle as he watches her.

"You never got her name, Dean."

"Shit!" Dean races from the bar and out the door. Sam is hot on his heels.

The blonde is already seated in her Mustang when the find her. "I didn't mean that soon."

"We didn't get your name," Dean huffs breathlessly.

"It's Nancy Drew," she grins. "Welcome to River Heights, boys."


End file.
